


Lashes and Diamonds

by HaroThar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Cowgirl Position, F/F, Gold Digging, Riding, Sort Of, Spanking, Sugar Mama, Teacher-Student Relationship, Trans Romelle (Voltron), Under-negotiated Kink, amab language, background Sheith - Freeform, background lotura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27907537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaroThar/pseuds/HaroThar
Summary: When Krolia picks up an interplanetary hitchhiker, she has a fair assumption of what the girl's travel fare is going to be.
Relationships: Krolia/Romelle (Voltron)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9
Collections: Kromelle Mini-Exchange





	Lashes and Diamonds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WatermelonTuesdays](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatermelonTuesdays/gifts).



_She’s younger than my own **son** ,_ Krolia thought to herself, tapping the end of her stylus to the powered-down auxillery desk of her spaceneedle, sliding it up through her fingers, lifting it loosely enough for it to swing down, and tapping it down on the desk again. _A face that cute must get plenty of suitors. I don’t even know her. She could literally try to kill me in my sleep tonight._ Okay admittedly that last one was unlikely. Not because the girl seemed young and friendly—that kind of facade was often the deadliest—but because hitchhikers were rarely that stupid.

And then, the other part, the part Krolia had trouble arguing with in the absence of a far more important goal: _But I want her._

“So,” Krolia said aloud, pulling Romelle’s attention away from the display that she definitely wasn’t about to push the buttons on. Her guilty little hop and overly-formal crossed arms behind her back were just alien manners. Ha. “What’s bringing you to Planet Pollux?”

“The Empirical Galra-Altean Academy's fiber arts program,” she answered easily, posture relaxing and side-stepping her way closer to where Krolia sat, stardust casting the cockpit of Krolia’s spaceneedle in pinks and oranges. “Enrollment for the next semester is coming up,” she said, trailing her fingertips along the smooth metal of the desk before plopping herself down in a seat, her long pigtails bouncing, “and I figured it was now or never!”

“You’ll be cutting it pretty close,” Krolia warned, noting that the girl’s fingernails were painted a cheerful blue. “I’m a professor there, on my way back. Classes begin at the start of the next movement.” Technically, Krolia was stationed there by Kolivan to make sure that the new emperor wasn’t using the Academy as a front for brainwashing new soldiers or hiding sinister affairs, but in the four decaphoebes since its opening Krolia had found nothing of the sort. So either the emperor and empress really had made an interspecies academy for the best and brightest with a campus that sprawled the length of your average polis, or Krolia was already well beyond compromised.

“Oh how fascinating!” Romelle said, leaning forward with her arms crossed on the edge of the desk, and her tits propped up on top of them in a way that only looked coincidental. Krolia was reminded that she was usually pretty competent at realizing when she was compromised. “What do you teach?”

“Beginning and intermediary martial arts and swordplay, in traditional Galran style,” Krolia said, not bothering to hide the fact that she was looking directly at the swell in the fabric of her shirt. “Almost identical to the training I did with new Blade members, except less intense and spread out over multiple phoebes instead of a couple movements.”

“You’re a member of the Blade of Marmora?” Romelle asked, blinking her big blue eyes and propping her chin in hand, breasts shifting with the movement.

Krolia looked her dead in the eyes and arched a single eyebrow. Krolia was in her Blade ship. Her actual literal knife was strapped, in plain sight, to her thigh. 

“Maybe you could introduce me to some of the Voltron heroes,” Romelle continued on blithely, fluttering her lashes and acting like she hadn’t noticed the pause. “I hear the Black Paladin is supposed to be quite handsome.”

Well Krolia wasn’t sure if Romelle was talking about her son or son-in-law but either way she was due for a rude awakening if she thought she might stand a chance with either of them.

“Mm.”

“Many of them are teaching there, right?”

“Most of them, yes, though I think the Green Paladin is on an early sabbatical to Olkarion this year.”

“Maybe I should enroll in martial arts before you take one of those yourself,” Romelle said, tugging a lock loose from one of her pigtails and twirling it around a finger. “I’d hate to miss the chance to learn from such a pretty teacher. And I’m just _terribly_ defenseless as I am now,” she tacked on with a wriggle in her seat, thrusting her chest forward before moving to resettle in her chair.

Krolia didn’t let her, hooking a finger in the dip of her neckline and giving it a sharp tug forward. “You’re not a terrible actor,” Krolia commented, “but why don’t we stop pretending this is something innocent.” It wasn’t a question.

Romelle pouted. “I’ll have you know,” she said, reaching up to tug at the pull string of her shirt, loosening her neckline all the way so that it slipped easily off her shoulders, “I am often cited as an _excellent_ actor.”

Krolia once again arched her eyebrow. “You asked me if I was a Blade.”

Romelle jolted, cheeks turning a delicious shade of pink, and she “hmph!”ed loudly. Then she moved to distract Krolia by perching herself on top of the desk, gripping the fabric of her shirt, and pulling it down all the way, fabric pooling over the small corset she wore and hanging at her elbows. Krolia was happy to allow herself to be distracted.

“Cute bra,” she remarked, reaching up to cup a breast in each hand as Romelle’s legs swung down off the desk, a ghost of straddling Krolia with maybe a foot, tops, of air between them. 

“It is,” Romelle agreed, shifting where she sat, the curve of her breasts thrust softly further into Krolia’s palms. Krolia hummed appreciatively, giving them a squeeze, then slid her hands up, over the smooth expanse of her chest and to her shoulders, which were pleasantly broader than the loose clothing had led Krolia to initially believe. She dragged her hands down the porcelain skin of her arms, then dropped them down to the tight cinch of her corset. But when Krolia’s hands drifted lower, Romelle caught them in her own and lifted them away.

“And you haven’t even bought me dinner yet,” Romelle tsked, slipping down off the desk to straddle Krolia fully, and Krolia nodded her understanding. No touching below the belt. She could do that. She could also buy her dinner.

“And where,” Krolia asked, sliding her hands around Romelle’s waist and pulling her closer, firmly settled in the chair with her, “would you like me to take you?”

“Well, you’re the local,” Romelle remarked, tilting her chin back and allowing Krolia to rest a palm against her throat, her claws raising goosebumps where they passed lightly over the skin of her shoulder blades. “Where do all the pretty girls get taken?”

“Generally to bedrooms,” Krolia stated, her fangs ghosting over Romelle’s shoulder. The girl smelled like sugar and cream. “There’s a Baltonian Zulac with good ambiance, though you might want to wear something a little nicer.”

Romelle hummed, fingers digging into the thick muscles of Krolia’s biceps as she let herself be fondled and held, and when Krolia inquisitively hovered over the clasp of Romelle’s bra she offered no protest. Unfortunately that also happened to be the moment the autopilot warned of an incoming debris field.

Krolia did not throw back her head and groan at the interruption, because she was not a child and she was an elite member of the fiercest spy network in the universe and she had immediate reactions to threats embedded in her blood. But she _did_ pout a little, as she set the very cute Altean back up on the desk and made a beeline for the pilot seat. 

It hardly even counted as a debris field, either, just an inconvenient nuisance that forced Krolia to interrupt her very pleasant pursuit of a pretty blonde.

“You took us through that quite skillfully,” Romelle remarked once they were through, and Krolia snorted. She would have said that it was nothing, but Romelle slid her fingers down over Krolia’s shoulder and upper arm _very_ enticingly. She perched her pretty little ass on the arm of Krolia’s seat and batted her blue eyes, tits still on full display and sleeves bunched up around her wrists. Krolia did not reach out and run a hand up the inside of Romelle’s calf, which was _right there,_ but it was a near thing.

“What does this button do?” Romelle asked sweetly, leaning forward with an outstretched hand towards the control panel.

In a blink, Krolia had both her wrists pinned behind her back and her exposed chest slammed up against a piece of the dashboard that didn’t have any functions attached to it. Romelle’s shocked gasp was delectable.

“Wh—”

“You know,” Krolia interrupted, applying just a little extra pressure to her arms and forcing out a small “eep!” from that naughty mouth, “it would take a real idiot to think she could press random buttons on a Blade ship’s control panel without being punished for it.”

Krolia felt the full body shiver that followed her words, and tried not to let it go straight to her crotch (it went straight to her crotch). “Well, y—” Romelle had to pause, clear her throat from how it’d broken, swallow audibly, “You know what they say about us blondes.”

“That your ass turns as pink as your clothes?” Krolia asked, pleased by the low pitch and soft undertone of a growl in her words.

Romelle squirmed. For a moment Krolia almost thought that she had misjudged, and pushed too far, but Romelle’s words were delightfully breathy when she said, “Only if you spank it.”

Krolia hauled her back down into the pilot’s seat, but this time with Romelle bent over her lap. With one hand, she kept Romelle’s wrists pinned together against her lower back, while her dominant hand gripped Romelle’s pants and pulled them down. Her underwear matched her bra, Krolia noted distantly, and brought her open palm down on the fat curve of her ass. Romelle squeaked and squirmed again, and Krolia resigned herself to the fact that she was just going to be a dripping mess by the end of this. Romelle’s sounds were simply too cute.

And she made _plenty_ of “eeps!” and “ahs!” and little startled noises as Krolia slapped her, going easy at first, warming up the skin and alternating ass cheeks. She was also extremely squirmy, held in place only by Krolia’s iron grip on her arms. When Krolia felt she’d warmed up enough, she brought her hand down hard across her ass, and Romelle shrieked, though it sounded more startled than pained.

“Did you forget just how muscular I am?” Krolia asked skeptically, arching an eyebrow.

“N-nooooo,” Romelle moaned, and while Krolia couldn’t see her face she _was_ red down her neck and on her ears, so she could hazard a guess.

Krolia pulled down her underwear to join her pants at the top of her thighs, and returned to the lighter slaps, sharp little smacks against the reddening skin, but added in harsh blows at random intervals. She delighted in the way Romelle would shriek and writhe with each one, and how each time she struck her roughly the line of her dick against Krolia’s thigh became more pronounced.

By the time Krolia let her stinging palm come to rest on Romelle’s flushed skin, rubbing her ass almost absently, Romelle was fully hard and Krolia _definitely_ had a damp spot between her thighs. Romelle was breathing loudly, and Krolia wouldn’t exactly call her own breath quiet. She tugged Romelle up, releasing her arms and helping her upright. She looked _astounding,_ her face scarlet, her tits out, her ass boasting Krolia’s handprints, a visible bulge in the front of her pants.

Krolia knew she’d be told no if she asked for a picture, and so resolved that no matter what she had to do, she was _going_ to get the two of them into this situation again. In the meantime, she tried to memorize every detail. 

Romelle pulled the fabric of her pants up gingerly, biting her lower lip. Though if that was due to the friction on her sensitive ass, or the lack thereof on her equally sensitive dick, Krolia couldn’t guess.

“Someone looks pleased with herself,” Romelle remarked, letting Krolia lift the fabric of her shirt up over her shoulders once more and tug the pullstring through to cinch the neckline.

Krolia was absolutely smirking, smug as a Zaalian housecat. 

“Someone looks like she could use a little help there,” Krolia stated, eyes dipping down to the outline of her cock, then back up to her eyes. Romelle set her hands against the arms of Krolia’s chair, boxing her in, for a certain value of the phrase. They both knew Krolia could get out with very little effort on her part. 

“I thought you were taking me out to dinner first?”

Krolia hummed and shrugged, like it didn’t matter to her either way. The mess in her underwear might say otherwise, but Romelle didn’t need to know that.

“Sure.”

Krolia landed her needle while Romelle walked it off, the hangar specific for university faculty and staff. As such, Krolia’s hoverbike was still right where she had left it, and Krolia decided that she absolutely enjoyed the sensation of being wrapped in the arms of a beautiful girl as she rode at faster-than-entirely-legal speeds through the sprawling campus, which was really just a city. Why they didn’t call it a city, Krolia didn’t understand. It had all the facets and functions of a city. Just, a city where most of the buildings were focused on the transfer of knowledge, or housing the people involved in such.

Krolia’s apartment was on the third floor of a 20 story building, technically low enough that she—as a Blade—could hop out the window without dying, but high enough that breaking in through the window would be a feat. 

“So is anyone expecting you?” Krolia asked as she slid the hangars of her closet all to one side, revealing her less-used dresses.

“No, I’m here all on my lonesome,” Romelle stated, perched on Krolia’s bed (in such a way that Krolia knew she was keeping weight off her stinging ass) and examining her with her chin propped up in her palms. She really did have cute down to a science. 

“Didn’t call ahead to book a motel room?”

“No,” Romelle said blithely, like it was of no consequence, “I figured some _charitable soul_ might find space in their bed for me.” She smirked down at her own pale fingers as she twirled a lock of hair around them. “Or couch I suppose, though that’s hardly as fun.”

“And is that what you came to the academy for?” Krolia asked, pulling out a tight, navy blue number she hadn’t worn since Keith tried to get her to “meet new people” and she’d given it her best attempt, for him. “Fun? Or textile education?”

“My dear Krolia,” Romelle said, lifting off the bed and bouncing over to her, her little hands coming to rest on Krolia’s bicep. “When presented with a choice between two things, I _always_ pick both.”

Romelle reached over Krolia’s shoulder and pulled out a sleek black gown that had more creatively placed holes than actual fabric. It was bare around the back, arms, and shoulders and had a plunging V over both the small of the back and the chest, held up by a single strap around the neck, and the slits on either side of the skirt went up the entirety of the thigh. It was meant to be worn with leggings.

Krolia got a very funny feeling Romelle would not be wearing leggings. Except—

“I don’t know if anything I have will fit you,” Krolia cautioned, “I’m significantly flatter around the bust than you are.”

“Oh that’s not an issue,” Romelle said without concern, taking off her corset and shirt altogether now. Krolia stared openly and did not bother to pretend she wasn’t. Her eyebrow arched again when Romelle’s cheek markings began to glow and her chest visibly reduced in size, her bra cups going from perfectly tailored to much, much too big. If Krolia had to guess, she’d say Romelle’s belly, thighs, and cheeks got a little rounder as a result, though those changes were less drastic. “I will need to borrow one of your bras, though.”

Krolia tapped the dress itself. “There’s padding in there to keep you from nipping out. I don’t own anything nicer than sports bras.” Krolia gestured to the well muscled and nearly-flat plane of her chest, which was only the size it was due to the pregnancy. Otherwise she really would’ve been flat as a washboard. “I don’t tend to need lingerie.” 

Romelle shrugged and tossed off her pants next, and Krolia respectfully turned away.

“Oh you can look,” Romelle informed her cheerfully, “Just don’t touch~”

“A tall order,” Krolia stated, removing her own shirt as her eyes returned to Romelle. Clad in nothing but the panties, which did not do much to hide the bulge of her cock, Romelle was a _sight._ Krolia dropped her pants next, and wiggled into the blue dress. It had a matching belt that went around her waist somewhere, some gaudy thing with rhinestones that Krolia unironically loved. She rummaged around her closet, wondering where she would’ve even put the thing, and set aside two pairs of heels as she dug. Aha! There it was.

“Can you change your shoe size too?” Krolia asked, extending the strappy heels that wrapped thin strips all the way up her calves to Romelle, figuring they’d look exquisite flashing through the slits of the dress. The dress that was clinging to Romelle like a dream. Fuck if dinner wasn’t going to feel intolerably long.

“Fat redistribution and color shifting are basics even children know, but bone resizing requires more… practice.”

“Practice I assume, from your tone, you do not have.”

So it was fortunate that the two of them shared a shoe size. Krolia put her phone and exactly one card in her clutch, knowing just how easily such things got stolen, and Romelle was perfectly content to leave Krolia’s apartment empty handed. The fact that Romelle’s luggage remained in Krolia’s home did not go unnoticed. 

The two of them turned a couple heads when they reached the Zulac, and a purring, smug pride settled into Krolia’s thorax at that knowledge. The hand on Romelle’s hip slid lower, and tugged the girl closer. When the host led them to their table, Krolia pulled Romelle’s chair out for her.

“Anything out of budget?” Romelle asked, sounding altogether too casual and bubbly. Krolia hummed negatively.

“As a senior member of the academy staff _and_ a valued ally to both the Empire and Coalition, I’m paid _very_ well. Get anything you like.”

Krolia glanced up from her menu to find Romelle looking away quickly, but didn’t mess the intent she found on the girl’s face.

“You fake innocence well, for someone who has none of it.”

“If I was faking it well, you’d be a little more convinced of it.”

Krolia chuckled. “Does that bother you?”

Romelle “hmphed!” quietly and turned a menu page. 

“Not used to being found out?”

Romelle flattened her menu on the table and glared at Krolia, her lips in a perfect pout. 

“I _am_ an elite spy, you know.”

Romelle regarded her a long moment, her eyes steely, and then she smiled, somehow both perky and sly. “Well, I suppose there’s fun to be had in a challenge.”

That shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was. That should _not_ have been as arousing as it was!

Krolia made a mental note to carefully budget out a cushion for herself and move some funds into savings. She had a hunch her checking account was going to fall prey to a pair of pretty blue eyes and competitive wiles.

The competitive wiles were probably the damning bit.

Romelle ordered the second-most expensive entre on the menu and the most expensive wine. Krolia went ahead and ordered a desert while she was at it.

“So what do you do for fun?” Romelle asked as they waited for their food. “Or are you more of a ‘all work and no play’ kind of dame?”

“The latter.”

“Oh boo! You must do _something_ interesting!”

Krolia chuckled. “Does working out count?”

Romelle squinted at her, and Krolia flexed her bicep, elbow on the table. Romelle’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink.

“Yes, but only barely. What else?”

“I enjoy taking walks around the campus,” Krolia said. The fact that those ‘walks’ were more or less Krolia sneaking around and poking her nose into buildings she didn’t strictly need to be in was inconsequential. She did enjoy that part of her job. A slightly-lower-stakes version of stuff she’d done under Zarkon’s regime. Almost like a game, except there were definitely still consequences if she got caught. 

Romelle huffed.

“And what about you?”

“I’ve been very into fashion for most of my life, which is part of why I want to go into textiles and fiber arts. I garden, and I’ve gotten increasingly interested in video games lately.” Romelle propped her chin on her hand, fumbling only slightly when she remembered her tits weren’t half as large as they normally were and she didn’t need to accommodate for them. Lilting piano keys and a thrumming bass played through the air, mixing with sounds of conversation and cutlery. “I’m quite fond of parties, and get invited to more than just a few of them.”

“Planning on joining a sorority?”

Romelle looked off to the side, hand flipping over so her chin rested on the backs of her knuckles, and she took a sip off her wine, pinky and ring fingers extended off the glass. She took a deep breath and blinked rapidly. “So here’s the thing…”

“Mm?”

“Sororities seem fairly… inefficient, in terms of getting my money’s worth. High prices and low return, you know?” Romelle shifted in her seat and the long, pale stretches of her legs flickered briefly into view before disappearing back under the table. “I’m just not used to that sort of lifestyle.”

“And you would prefer to stick to the style to which you are accustomed.”

“And just one person who can keep me in such,” Romelle agreed with a delighted little clap of her hands. “Or two, if that certain someone is ever in the mood.” 

Well, given that the theoretical second person died a while ago, Krolia wasn’t overly worried about that.

“You probably aren’t going to find anyone like that among the student body,” Krolia stated.

“No, I don’t imagine I would,” Romelle agreed, eyes hot on Krolia’s fur, right before their food arrived. Romelle lifted her fork daintily and twirled it once before skewering her meal. “And then, of course, there’s the sex. I do intend to be having a lot of it; don’t really want to have to explain myself to sisterly busybodies.”

Ohhhh Krolia was in so much trouble.

“Good stamina, then?” Krolia asked, internally praising how even and casual her voice still sounded.

“I might not be an athlete, but there are certain muscles I am _very_ accomplished at using.”

“Mm.”

It took most of Krolia’s willpower not to shove all her food into her mouth in a single bite and drag the minx across from her right on back to her apartment. Was she attached to that dress? Would she regret it later if she literally tore it off of Romelle? Technically the zipper up the hip and loop around the neck made it exceedingly easy to remove but Krolia’s blood was boiling with lust and it made her crave petty violences. The wine was not helping with the lust or the violence. Why the blood-damned _fuck_ had she ordered dessert!?

“Oo, cake!”

Because Romelle was cute, and charming, and girly, and those types tended to like sweets, and Krolia was currently hellbent on giving her anything she wanted, because she was addled and intoxicated on her scent and as smitten as an antlering Tsibuck. Romelle dug into the chocolate and Krolia stuck her fork in for exactly three bites before it was gone.

“If you want more than that you’re going to have to be faster,” Romelle teased.

“Bold of you to assume I didn’t order it specifically for you.”

“Oh?” Romelle leaned forward in a way that would have left Krolia staring down her tits, if she’d still had them. It was a lovely view, nevertheless. “Do you have anything else that is specifically for me?”

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

An orgasm, ideally.

Romelle waived the waiter over with a charming little flap of her fingers and asked for the bill, which Krolia naturally paid. On the way back to Krolia’s apartment—which she was _not_ rushing, for the record—Romelle caught sight of a jewelry store and tugged Krolia inside by the arm.

“I’ve been meaning to look into new earrings,” Romelle remarked, turning the fixture display. “Oo, Krolia come look at these!” 

Romelle cozied herself up against Krolia as she held different pairs of glinting stones up against her face, her scantily clad body having a very predictable effect as Krolia’s personal bubble was thoroughly and repeatedly popped. The urge to fuck her against the bathroom door of a somewhat public building was strong. Krolia’s restraint was stronger, but only just. She _knew_ Romelle was making her wait on purpose, wanted to see how Krolia would react, and Krolia was determined to remain as cool and placid as a Blade her age should behave.

She bought Romelle two pairs. If this wasn’t going to last any longer than tonight, it was officially the most expensive booty call Krolia had ever had. But again, Krolia wasn’t good at slowing down or backing off when she had her jaw locked around a goal.

And oh, to test her fangs against Romelle’s pretty skin, to breathe in her scent fully.

“You know, most people would’ve at least tried to cop a feel by now,” Romelle remarked as Krolia unlocked her apartment with swift efficiency. 

“I am aware of the boundary you set,” Krolia said cautiously, ushering Romelle in through the door. 

“And you have been a complete gentlelady about it.”

“Mhm,” Krolia hummed, wanting _very_ much not to be a gentlelady any longer. Or gentle.

“Such restraint~” Romelle chimed airily, sliding her bare arms around Krolia’s waist as Krolia very intentionally did not claw bleeding halfmoons into her own palms. “But aren’t you tired of being nice?” Romelle murmured, breath hot against Krolia’s ear. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

“Romelle, I swear on my ancestors’ blood—”

“Take my clothes off.”

Krolia did, in fact, end up ripping the dress off Romelle. She also literally threw her onto the bed, Krolia’s own clothing discarded in a (still-intact) blink. Freed of the dress, Romelle’s chest returned to its original size and Krolia intentionally did not rip her panties as she removed the final barrier between them, Romelle already sporting a chub and Krolia inhaling deeply through her nose. The Blades might have been known as taciturn, but Krolia was still Galra. 

When their lips met, Krolia made every move to devour her. 

Romelle’s little body was hot, no fur between Krolia’s palms and the heat radiating off of her. Tex had been like that, too; little flaming balls of heat, these furless creatures. Krolia’s own fire was stoked, her palms roaming over Romelle’s hips, thighs, ass, her fat fucking tits. She was met, in turn, with Romelle’s hands exploring the well muscled planes of her body, her own ass and tits, the short fur of her limbs. 

When Romelle sank her fingers into the thicker fur on Krolia’s chest and mons, she ended up tugging, which, on the chest was fine, but the mons stung in a less pleasant way. Krolia gripped her by the wrist and pinned that hand above her head. And then, because she looked so nice like that, Krolia grabbed her other wrist and pinned that too.

Romelle was kissed breathless and red-lipped already, and squirmed under Krolia. “You planning on fucking me like this?”

Krolia grinned, baring her fangs, and lifted her hips. Romelle’s dick was at full mast, and Krolia was more than slick. It took three tries to line it up properly, the girl wriggling and twitching under her hold as she was unintentionally teased, but then the head pushed inside and Krolia and Romelle let out twin moans. Krolia kissed her again as she sank down, salivating as her fangs ached to _bite_ into the pretty young thing beneath her.

“You good with getting marked up?” Krolia asked, rubbing her last remaining brain cells together while she still had them. 

“Yeah,” Romelle gasped, “Nothing deep.”

Krolia bit down hard on Romelle’s shoulder and Romelle jerked, her hips thrusting the remainder of her cock up into Krolia’s body so _perfectly_ and blood leaving its brand against Krolia’s tongue. “Fuck, yes yes yes yes!” Romelle squeaked, their bodies rocking together as Krolia moved her hips to ride her.

Krolia bore down against Romelle’s smaller body, panting against the delectable wound she’d left and ears pinned back to better hear the slaps of their bodies connecting. She licked her lips clean before pressing them to Romelle’s throat, sucking a bruise, making the girl squeal and squirm. Romelle strained against Krolia’s hold on her wrists, trying to wiggle free.

“Come on!” she finally begged, voice wrecked and raw as her hips continued to move alongside Krolia’s, “I finally give you permission to touch anywhere you like and all you do is pin me?”

“Good point,” Krolia grunted, and pinned both Romelle’s wrists under one hand. Romelle _keened,_ finding that even with just one hand, Krolia still had her far overpowered. Krolia rolled a pink little nipple between her fingers and felt nothing but smug.

“Frustrated?”

“You know quizzaking well I am!”

“Good.” Krolia purred. “Consider it payback.” She squeezed the walls of her cunt around Romelle’s cock and grinned at how Romelle thrashed up, arching beautifully off her mattress. “You can look all you want, though.”

“Oh you’re _evil!”_ Romelle gasped, face flushed and sweaty and her hair a disheveled mess.

“Nn,” Krolia disagreed, putting on a disaffected air. “Just Galra.”

Admittedly that would’ve sounded cooler if she wasn’t rapidly approaching orgasm, but ideally Romelle was far too lust-addled to notice or care. Her thighs burned with a pleasant strain as she rode the petite girl under her, the rush of exercise familiar and mingling with the pleasure that drove flares through her nerves with every downward thrust. 

She drew her claws lightly down Romelle’s side, just barely hard enough to raise red lines, and kissed her hard. Romelle gasped and thrust hard, tipping Krolia into orgasm. Her body shuddered, clenching around Romelle as her nerves all lit up and pleasure rolled through her in a crescendo. Romelle filled her in return, hot seed spurting into Krolia’s cunt and making them both moan into each other’s lips.

Romelle broke the kiss and panted into Krolia’s neck, hiding her red face, and Krolia kicked up a purr, self-satisfied and lethargic. She pulled herself off Romelle’s dick slowly, letting the girl keep her face hidden, and when she released her wrists Romelle wrapped her arms around Krolia’s neck. 

She flopped, boneless, onto the bed next to Romelle and curled her arms around her, pulling them flush together as they caught their respective breaths. Romelle smelled so _fucking_ good like this. She pressed soft kisses against Romelle’s hair and temple, slow and soft and smug.

Eventually, they’d talk openly about what this relationship was and what they were both expecting from it. Eventually, they’d put up some boundaries and lay out some mutual interests. But for the evening, Krolia was content to scoop the disheveled girl up in her arms and settle them both into steaming bathwater, subvocals rumbling all the while.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/Concrit are always welcome! <3


End file.
